Even as a sixteen-year-old kid, Brody had certainly been big enough, strong enough to commit the murders. And there was no question that he had a temper.
Dusty tightened his grip on the reins and Juniper protested with a small whinny and a flick of her head. Still, as many years as he’d known Brody, Dusty had never seen him be cruel to an animal or any other human being.
Brody raised a hand to wave at Dusty, and he returned the gesture as he rode the outer perimeter of the herd to check for any signs of a threat from a wild animal.
His gaze cut to the Humes ranch in the distance. It was so much easier to suspect one of the creeps who worked there than any of the men Dusty had grown up with. Many of those men liked fistfights and violence. Although they seemed to share a brotherhood of sorts with each other, they also displayed a lack of morals on many occasions.
Had Zeke Osmond left the flowers for Trisha?
Why would the man care who she was dating if he didn’t have some sort of interest in her himself? Or was it some other lonely man in town who had been smitten by the waitress? Trisha was certainly pretty enough to turn any man’s head.
It was well after dark when Dusty made his way back to the stables, where he brushed down Juniper and stalled her, and then headed to the bunkhouse in the distance.
Although he was encouraged by how things had gone between him and Trisha, exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was more of an emotional exhaustion than a physical one. He was accustomed to the labor required to keep things running smoothly around the ranch.
What he wasn’t used to was the brain drain of not just the brief foray into his troubled past, but also the unsettling thoughts about the murders.
No one was outside as he reached his room. It was just as well. He was looking forward to an early night. He opened his door and stepped inside and immediately took off his gun belt and placed it on the top of the chest of drawers. He only wore the gun when he was out on the land and might have to use it against some wild and threatening critter.
He sat on the side of the single bed and reached down to pull his T-shirt off. He paused and frowned as he heard a sound that didn’t belong in the room, a sound that immediately shot a burst of adrenaline through him.
Every rancher, every person who had ever spent any time outside in Oklahoma would recognize the dry, papery noise.
Rattlesnake.
CHAPTER 6
Dusty slowly got to his feet and stepped away from the bed, where the ominous sound came from beneath his rumpled sheets. What in the hell? Adrenaline surged up, instantly vanquishing the deep exhaustion that had gripped him moments before.
Frantically, he looked around and then focused back on the lump beneath the covers. He had nothing in his room to remove a snake from his bed. He also had a healthy respect for ticked-off rattlers, and this one definitely sounded angry and defensive, which made it more than a little bit dangerous.
He banged on the wall that separated his room from Tony’s. The last thing he wanted to do was take his eyes off the bed and have the snake slither to someplace else in the room where he might not be able to find it. He thumped again on the wall.
Tony burst through his door with his gun drawn.
“Don’t shoot,” Dusty exclaimed. “It’s just me with a rattlesnake in my bed.”
“What?” Tony dropped his gun hand to his side. The man’s long black hair that was usually caught into a ponytail at the nape of his neck spilled over his shoulders and he was clad only in a pair of black boxers. He looked at the bed and then at Dusty. “How in the heck did a rattler get into your bed?”
“We can talk about that later after we’ve removed it.”
“We? What’s this we crap?” Tony replied and laughed uneasily.
“Okay, me. I’ll get it out of here. Can you get me a rake?”
“Yeah, right after I get my boots and gloves and maybe a hazmat suit,” Tony replied. “You know how I feel about snakes.”
“Trust me, I’m not particularly happy about this situation, either. Could you hurry, Tony? I don’t want the sucker to move and go someplace else in the room, and I’m definitely not going to sleep with a rattler loose.”
“Be right back.”
Tony disappeared out the door and Dusty continued to eye the slight bump beneath the sheet. The rattling stopped, but Dusty knew the minute he attempted to mess with it at all the snake would go into defensive mode and that was usually when they struck out.
Tony returned with a garden rake and then stepped back as Dusty held the rake in one hand and used his other hand to slowly pull the sheet from the bed.
He gasped as the sheet fell away to reveal the fairly large, dark brown–banded coiled timber rattler. Its tail vibrated, the rattle sound once again filling the air.
“Jeez, that sucker is huge.” Tony remained just inside the doorway, poised as if ready to run for the hills.
Dusty didn’t want to kill it, although he wouldn’t hesitate if it became absolutely necessary. But a healthy snake population kept the mice and rats around the place to a minimum.
He reached out and placed the flat side of the rake on the snake’s back. The snake struck at the metal and Dusty quickly twisted the rake in an effort to get the long body to coil around the implement.
“I’m going to have to grab him with my hand,” he said in frustration after several attempts to get the snake onto the rake. He continued to keep enough pressure on the middle of the body to keep the snake pinned into place against the bed.
Carefully he worked his hands down the length of the rake to get closer to the snake’s head. “Be careful, man,” Tony exclaimed. “You aren’t exactly a professional snake charmer.”
Dusty ignored Tony and focused all his attention on the writhing creature. A moment of distraction...a second of carelessness could result in a dangerous venomous bite.
It took three attempts before he finally managed to capture the snake by the back of the head. “You’ve got him,” Tony exclaimed.
Dusty lifted the snake off the bed and Tony raced out the door. Dusty followed and carried the creature away from the bunkhouse and to some thick brush, where he released it. The snake slithered off into the darkness of the night, and he blew out a sigh of relief.
He returned to his room and Tony watched silently as he stripped the sheets from his bed and remade it with clean ones. It was only when the bed was made again that Tony offered to grab a beer for each of them.
“Yeah, I’d say a beer is definitely in order after this,” Dusty agreed.
Minutes later the two sat in chairs just outside Dusty’s room. “I’ve got to tell you, I think my heart stopped for a minute when I heard the first rattle,” Dusty admitted.
“Give me a pack of hungry wolves or a big old hairy spider any day of the week, but keep the snakes away from me, especially the rattlers.” Tony took a drink of his beer and then eyed Dusty. “That snake wasn’t some little baby that managed to get in through a crack in the floor. How in the heck did a snake that size get into your room? Into your bed?”
“Beats me.” Dusty frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose it probably slithered in during one of the times I came in or went out of my room through the course of the day.”
“A snake that big? And you didn’t notice it? Dusty, I know you almost never lock your bunk door. Maybe you should start locking it all the time.”
Dusty looked at his friend in surprise. “Man, what are you implying?” Tony remained silent. “Do you really think somebody put that snake in my room?” he asked incredulously.
Tony took another drink of his beer and then leaned forward. “I just think that snake was damned big to have somehow accidentally made its way into your room.”
“But why would anyone do something like that?”
“I ha
ve no idea. Have you had a problem with any of the other men in the last day or two?”
“No, not at all,” Dusty replied. “And I can’t believe any of the men here would do something so dangerous.”
“All I know for sure is that if you hadn’t heard the rattle, then you might have crawled into bed and been bitten who knows how many times before you could get help.”
Dusty couldn’t help the faint chill of the “what if” that suddenly made the night air feel cooler than it really was. “I just can’t believe that somebody would do that. Tomorrow I’ll check out my room to see if there are any mouse holes or someplace where it could have found its way inside.”
Still, long after he and Tony had parted ways for the night and Dusty was in bed, Tony’s words kept playing and replaying in his mind. Was it possible that somebody had sneaked into his room and left him the gift of a venomous snake?
Dusty couldn’t begin to imagine who would do such a thing...and why? It just made no sense. There had to be a logical explanation.
The next morning before he set out for chores, he checked the floorboards and walls in the room to see if the answer to the snake’s presence was any kind of a hole that might lead to the outside. He found nothing.
He could only assume that somehow the snake had come inside when he’d opened his door and he hadn’t noticed it. With the light of dawn it seemed absolutely ridiculous to consider any other possibility.
The morning passed quickly. He skipped lunch with the other men and instead at two thirty he took his lunch break and headed to town and the café.
He could care less what Daisy had for her Tuesday lunch special. It was the woman who delivered it to him that he wanted to see.
He walked in the front door and immediately saw her pouring coffee for local rancher Abe Breckenridge and his wife, Donna. Abe had a fairly successful ranch but he was best known in Bitterroot for the terrific barn dances he threw. Hopefully, if things continued to progress, Dusty and Trisha would be together at Abe’s next barn dance.
Dusty walked over to a nearby booth, and his heart warmed as Trisha saw him and her face lit up with obvious pleasure. Oh, he could easily get in over his head with this woman.
“What a nice surprise,” she said as she stepped up next to his booth. “I was going to call you later on my break, but it’s better to just tell you in person.”
“Tell me what?” Dusty asked.
“I spoke to Daisy first thing this morning and we’re on for the dinner tomorrow night. The café closes at six, so why don’t you come to the back door around seven thirty? That will give me plenty of time to get all of the cooking finished up.”
“Sounds great, but are you sure you really want to go to all of the trouble?” he asked.
“I’m positive. In fact, I’m really looking forward to it,” she assured him. “Just be sure and bring your appetite.”
He grinned. “Trust me, that shouldn’t be a problem.” He definitely had an appetite all right, but it wasn’t for any food she might fix. He was hungry to hold her in his arms once again. He was starving for another kiss with her.
He gave her his lunch order and as she left the booth he leaned back and smiled inwardly. For the first time in his life he truly believed that he was on the right path, a path that would lead to real happiness.
He fought the impulse to knock on wood. It scared him just a little bit. He’d known the contentment of the companionship he shared with the other men. He knew what it was like to enjoy the pride of a job well done. But real happiness was an alien emotion, and deep down in his very soul, he’d never really believed it was possible for him.
Maybe this was all just some setup by fate to kick him in the gut and once again remind him that he’d never be the man he so desperately wanted to be.
* * *
At seven fifteen on Wednesday night, Trisha checked the enchiladas in the oven. The sauce bubbled and a layer of cheese was melted all over the top. She turned off the oven, stirred the pot of Spanish rice on the stove and then took off her apron and went into the break room.
When the café had closed at six, Daisy had directed a couple of busboys to move a two-top table into the room. The table was now covered with a pale blue plastic tablecloth and a flameless candle awaited a touch of a button to display its flickering light.
A flutter of nerves shot off in her stomach as she went into the small bathroom to check her reflection. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she didn’t know if it was from the heat of the oven or her anticipation of the night to come.
It’s just Dusty. There’s no reason to be so nervous. She ran a brush through her hair and then dabbed on some pink lip gloss. She wasn’t really nervous in a bad way, but rather in a wonderfully good way.
It was the normal reaction of a woman about to spend an intimate dinner with the man who made her heart sing a little bit louder with every moment they spent together.
She checked her reflection one last time and then left the restroom. She smoothed down the pink blouse she’d changed into after work and turned on the candle and then sat at the table. The food was prepared, the atmosphere was set and all she was missing was the man.
Who would have thought the amiable cowboy who came into the café for a meal once a week or so would have come to mean so much to her so quickly?
The doubts she’d momentarily entertained about him had vanished. Both her head and her heart told her that Dusty couldn’t have had anything to do with the murders. He’d told her that he’d been a scrawny thirteen-year-old when he’d run away from home, and he’d only been fourteen when he’d come to the Holiday ranch.
It didn’t matter whether he’d been big and strong or puny and weak when he’d arrived on the ranch. There was just no way that she believed he’d had anything to do with the dead boys.
With her momentary doubts silenced, there was nothing left but her growing feelings for him. She certainly wasn’t in love with him, at least not yet, but she felt as if they’d been dating for weeks instead of mere days.
As the minutes ticked off to seven thirty, her thoughts ricocheted from Dusty to Cooper. For the past three days Cooper, had talked nonstop about Dusty and the fun he’d had when they had all gone fishing.
Cooper couldn’t wait to repeat the experience, but Trisha wasn’t sure that she would ever want to fish in that pond again after the skull catch and she would bet that Dusty felt the same way.
There were always other activities the three of them could share together...if tonight went well enough that Dusty wanted to continue to be a part of her life. If, after this private meal with him, she decided she wanted him to remain a part of hers.
She jumped out of her chair at the soft knock on the back door. Another flutter of nerves shot through her as she hurried to let him in.
He wore his jeans paired with a short-sleeved white dress shirt that had narrow navy stripes. He smelled of minty soap, a hint of shaving cream and his wonderful spicy cologne.
“Good evening, ma’am,” he said with a formal bow and then thrust a gaily wrapped package into her hands.
“What’s this?” she asked and stepped back to allow him through the door. “Dusty, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Flowers seemed way too clichéd to bring to you. You don’t have to open it now. It’s just a couple of puzzles that I thought you and Cooper would enjoy working together. They each only have sixteen big pieces.”
“Thank you, Dusty.” A rush of emotion filled her chest. Flowers...candy...even diamonds couldn’t have meant more to her. She clutched the package to her heart and then led him into the break room.
“Wow, this is all very nice,” he said. His eyes glowed as he looked at her. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”
“Daisy gets some of the credit,” she replied and placed his gift on
the nearby shelf next to her purse. “She’s the one who arranged for the table back here, although it might have had something to do with not wanting us to sit in the main area where somebody might see us through the windows.”
“Whatever the reason, this works for me.”
“Then sit down and make yourself comfortable. Before I get our plates, what would you like to drink?”
“Why don’t I get the drinks while you get our plates?” he countered.
“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll just have ice water.”
Together they left the break room and went into the kitchen where only the security lights were on and the main dining area was dark. As she got down two plates, he grabbed a couple of glasses to fill.
“Do you like beef or cheese enchiladas? I made both, along with Spanish rice.”
“How about I start with one of each and go from there,” he replied.
She dipped up the food and then together they returned to the break room, where they sat at the table across from each other.
The only light in the room was a spill of illumination from the break room bathroom and the dancing candlelight in the center of the table. “This looks terrific, Trisha.”
“I hope you like the way it all tastes,” she replied.
His gaze lingered on her lips. “Oh, I already know I like the way it tastes.”
“You are one wicked man, Dusty Crawford,” she said with a small laugh.
He laughed as well, and that set the mood for the evening. As they ate he shared with her more funny stories about the men he worked with and she shared Cooper stories with him.
There was almost nothing sexier than having the same sense of humor as another person. It had been far too long since Trisha had shared laughter with any other man.
The conversation continued to flow effortlessly between them. Dusty cleaned his plate and then went into the kitchen and refilled it, proclaiming that he’d never eaten enchiladas that were so tasty.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set Page 8